


Ride 'em Cowboy!

by Ann84



Category: The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 02:43:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17820275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ann84/pseuds/Ann84
Summary: Captain Cold in a cowboy hat!!!! Somehow Barry and Snart end up on a farm and have to actually farm it. I don’t care if it’s a one-shot or multichaptered as long as Snart ends up in a cowboy hat. Maybe even shirtless with the hat???? Yum.A request by Maddie360. I hope you enjoy it!





	Ride 'em Cowboy!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maddie360](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Maddie360).



> As requested by Maddie360 who, after seeing Snart in a cowboy hat in LOT, asked me to write this. I have a difficult time writing one shots so chaptered it is! It’ll probably end up being less than 10 though, I don’t think I can take on another long multi chaptered fic. I hope you enjoy it!

Leonard Snart sat in the backseat of the car glaring at the man next to him. 

Actually, glaring might not be strong enough, Barry was pretty sure he was envisioning his death and probably in the most horrific, gruesome ways possible. 

Barry sunk further into his seat wishing desperately that it would swallow him up, hide him from the look of pure hate being aimed at him. 

Jeez, you’d think after a day to let it sink in he wouldn’t be _that_ pissed anymore. Barry wasn’t. In fact, he was just a little excited. It was kind of like a little vacation and it was something that he’d never had the opportunity to experience growing up in the city. 

Not that he’d ever say out loud, and definitely not to the man throwing daggers at him with his eyes. 

It wasn’t entirely his fault that Snart was here anyway. He hadn’t _asked_ for the man’s help. He’d made that decision all on his own. 

There was a new meta. A really nasty piece of work that actually had Barry scrambling to keep up with and apparently Cold, who’d been watching the events on the news, decided to join the fun. 

The meta hadn’t been expecting the assistance and was so caught up in giving Barry a very thorough beating that he never saw Snart peek from around a building, aiming his cold gun right at his back. 

And it was over just like that. The meta was frozen to the spot and Barry was taken back to S.T.A.R. Labs to get patched up and that was that. 

Or so they’d thought. It was only a few hours later that they received the message that _someone_ wanted the meta released or all hell would break loose. They’d all brushed it off. They were Team Flash, they could handle _anything_. 

Yeah, that was a mistake. All hell _did_ break loose. 

Turns out there was an even nastier meta and they’d effectively stolen and imprisoned his boytoy. 

Barry had barely managed to escape from the ensuing fight. It seemed this meta had all the neat tricks that Barry had a hard time fighting and on top of that he could read power signatures like he had a built in freaky version of cerebro so even after Barry had managed to escape _he could still find him_. 

Luckily Cisco was a genius and had figured out a way to make the power dampening bracelets into power signature blockers too. Unluckily that also meant no Flash. Even more unluckily, when the meta couldn’t find him he went after the team, the labs, anyone he thought could give him info on Barry’s whereabouts. 

Snart didn’t escape his notice either. The meta had made it very clear that he held Snart even more accountable than Barry, it had been _his_ ice after all. 

They’d holed Cold up in the Labs for safekeeping at first, something the criminal had grumbled about in the beginning until he realized it meant some serious snooping and unlimited access to anything and everything Flash. Barry thought Cisco was going to spontaneously combust near the end. Nothing had been safe from Snart.

But then the Labs were attacked and it was bad enough that _everyone_ had to go into hiding until the meta could be figured out and sorted out. 

That’s where Oliver Queen had come in. He had the money and resources to squirrel them away _and_ a brilliant team to help figure out the freaky meta. 

So good old Oliver set up safe houses for them across the country, pairing everyone up in two’s to keep low profiles and while _no one_ was happy with the situation and the sudden upheaval of their lives, Leonard Snart was determined to make Barry miserable even though _it wasn’t his fault_.

Barry shifted in his seat again as he felt the nearly searing gaze on him and idly fiddled with the bracelets on his wrists that protected him from being found while simultaneously blocking his powers. He thought back to Oliver’s words the morning before. 

“You and Snart are headed to Tennessee. There’s a farm there. The elderly man that used to own it passed a few weeks ago and his kids live in different cities. None of them have the time or inclination to run it. I bought it under the names Leonard and Bartholomew Smith, married a year, and looking to fulfil their dreams of homesteading, so I suggest you two familiarize yourselves with the ins and outs of running a farm.”

Both him and Snart had stood with their mouths hanging open, dumbfounded, as Oliver handed Barry a packet. 

“You’re new ID’s and all the paperwork you’ll need are in there along with more than enough money to keep you guys comfortable until we figure this out.”

As soon as Oliver had left Barry found himself against the wall, his feet _dangling_ , with Snart’s hand around his neck. 

“You are incredibly lucky that your team _stole_ my cold gun otherwise you would have a few less appendages right now.”

Barry opened his mouth to reply, though he still didn’t know what he was planning to say to the very irate criminal that had him pressed against the wall in such an insanely hot way that went straight to his dick because, yes, he’d been totally crushing on the man for a while now.

But when his lips parted, Snart _squeezed_ and Barry’s eyes widened when he realized he couldn’t breathe and he had no powers to aid him. 

He knew he was going to die. He was going to be murdered by the man that he’d spent countless nights fantasizing about and he really regretted never getting the chance to find out if the man was as good in bed as Barry imagined. 

But then he’d let go, let Barry fall to the ground in a heap, choking and wheezing on the blessedly wonderful air that filled his lungs, and walked from the room. 

Barry hadn’t seen him for the rest of the day or night, not until this morning when they’d left to go to the airport and the glares had been angled at him ever since. 

“Here we are gentlemen.” 

The voice of their shuttle driver transporting them from the airport to the car that Oliver had set them up with cut into his thoughts. He sat up and glanced around to find that they had pulled up to a car lot filled with shiny new vehicles on display. 

He unbuckled himself and stepped out of the car, moving to the trunk as the driver began pulling out their luggage. From over the upright lid he watched an older portly man approach Snart. 

“You must be Mr. Smith,” he said in a booming voice with his hand held out. 

Cold took the man’s hand and Barry walked around to the two, where he was greeted in the same manner as Snart. 

As the salesman pulled back he chuckled. “Bit of an unusual sale for me. Not very often folks buy a vehicle online and unseen,” he pried. 

“Yeah,” Barry said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck, “it was kind of a last minute decision, needed something to get us up to our new property.”

“New property, eh? Where ‘bouts you headin?” 

Before Barry could answer Snart spoke up, his usually snarky drawl replaced with a cold, domineering lilt. “Just show us the car.”

Barry actually blushed. Just because the circumstances sucked there was no reason to be _rude_. 

He pointed his own disapproving glare toward Snart before turning back to the salesman with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, it’s been a long flight. We’re both pretty eager to be on our way.”

The man nodded, wary eyes flicking to Snart, no doubt feeling the dangerous air currently pouring off the criminal. Barry understood the wariness, he’d been practically suffocated with Snart’s anger all day. 

“Of course, of course. I just have some papers for the two of you to sign and then it’s all yours.”

Ten minutes later Snart and Barry were loading up their luggage into the back of their brand new minivan, something he’d sworn had caused the vein in Snart’s forehead to bulge when they’d been shown what Oliver had bought for them.

Snart slammed down the hatch and it was on the tip of Barry’s tongue to tell the man he could have just pressed the button, that he didn’t need to take out his anger out on the van, when Snart tossed the keys at him. 

“You’re driving.”

Barry barely caught the keys as they flew toward him and turned to follow the man around to the passenger side. “I can’t Snart. I don’t have a driver’s license.”

“I seem to recall Queen provided you with one when he decided we were going to spend the unforeseeable future playing make-believe farmers.”

He winced at the chill in Snarts voice. “No, I mean I can’t drive. I don’t know _how_.

Snart paused and turned back from where he had his hand on the passenger door handle. 

“You can’t drive,” he repeated with raised brows and a very put upon look. “You’re in your mid-twenties and you never learned to drive? _Really_ Barry?”

Why did that sound so bad coming from Snart? He felt his cheeks go red. 

“I never really needed to,” he shrugged. “I drove to work with Joe before the lightening and after—well—I didn’t need to drive at all.”

The look aimed at him spoke volumes, like it was taking every ounce of his control not to tear into Barry. Instead he said through clenched teeth, “Fine. _I’ll_ drive. The keys.”

He held out his hand and Barry tentatively dropped them into his palm, moving back quickly when Snart pushed forward to walk to the driver’s side. 

Once he was buckled in, Barry leaned over to punch the address into the navigation system. 

Forty-eight minutes. It was going to take forty-eight minutes for them to get to their temporary home. That meant forty-eight minutes that he had to spend trapped in the small confines of the vehicle with Snart and his ‘I-want-to-kill-you’ mood. 

_Great_.

They pulled away from the car lot and Barry sighed, looking around the new van. Just because he didn’t drive and had never owned a vehicle before didn’t mean he didn’t get just as excited as the next person when they got a new car. 

He tapped various buttons on the dashboard, checking out the features. 

“You know, this thing isn’t so bad. It’s got…”

He trailed off at the look Snart shot at him and held his hands up in surrender. 

Ok, so no talking. Got it.

He sighed again and leaned in to play with the radio, browsing through the stations until he found one that had a good song. No sooner had he leaned back in his seat, Snart reached out and slammed his fingers on the buttons, turning the music off. 

Barry turned, indignant and annoyed, ready to tell the man to get over his shit but caught another hard look causing his mouth to snap shut. He grunted and crossed his arms over his chest, turning bodily toward the window and staring, unseeing, at the passing scenery. 

This was going to be a disaster.


End file.
